


a kiss with a fist (is better than none)

by woodchucks



Series: femslash 365 [2]
Category: Empire (TV 2015)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, implied mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 11:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18010379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodchucks/pseuds/woodchucks
Summary: "Hakeem is the only one dumb enough to say something about it when the three brothers finally work up the courage to step into the room. 'Damn, Ma, what happened while we were gone? Looked like y’all really kissed and made up.'"





	a kiss with a fist (is better than none)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: accidental affection
> 
> title is kiss with a fist from the incomparable florence and the machine. i imagine this scene being set after cookie rips anika's pearls off, but obviously canon divergent. but could pretty much be set after....any time anika and cookie fought.

Cookie presses the bag of frozen peas to the bridge of her nose and gives Anika an appraising smirk across the conference room table. The younger woman sports a frozen food of her own, a bag of carrots pressed to a rapidly swelling lip. Anika’s expression, however, borders on homicidal.

“What the hell is so amusing?” Anika grounds out, voice muffled. “You still got your ass beat.”

Cookie barks out a dry laugh. “I know you’re not talking with that fat lip you got, Boo Boo Kitty. But as a matter of fact, I was just thinking how you managed to surprise me. Who would’ve thought the kitten had claws?”

Anika moves the carrots long enough to flash a sardonic smile, baring her teeth. “I told you I was coming for your neck.”

“Yeah, well, my neck is still on my shoulders, ain’t it? You really managed to fuck up my nose, though.” Cookie’s face twists in annoyance, then hisses. “Damn. You better hope this shit don’t get all crooked ‘cause then I’ma really have to fuck your little ass up.”

Anika rolls her eyes, her trademark response any time Cookie speaks. “It’s not broken, Cookie, just a little swollen.” Cookie lowers the bag from her face and purses her lips, unconvinced, and Anika just sighs and stands from her seat. “Let me see.” She’s halfway around the conference room table when the sound of a fist pounding on glass startles both women.

Andre, arms crossed, stands on the other side of the glass door. Jamal and Hakeem flank him on either side, eyes hard. “We said opposite sides of the room! I am not mopping up anymore blood today.”

“Boy, shut up!” Cookie calls back, at the same time Anika grouses, “Andre, please, I’m not a child.”

“You’re supposed to be apologizing to each other,” Jamal reminds them, shooting Cookie an apologetic glance. “We just think it’s better if you do it from a safe distance.” He keeps his tone light, ever playing the peacemaker.

Anika rolls her eyes in Cookie’s direction again, this time at the boys’ expense. “Your mother thinks her nose is broken. I’m just taking a look, okay? No fighting. Right, Cookie?” When Cookie just folds her arms and kisses her teeth, Anika repeats, more firmly this time, “Right, Cookie?”

“Yes, Anika.” Cookie puts as much sarcastic sweetness as she can muster in her voice and aims it towards the door. “I don’t know how y’all expect us to talk with you watching us through the glass like some damn zoo animals. Can’t y’all go get me some ice or something?” When Andre stands firm, she adds, voice almost sincere, “I promise not to pull out anymore of Boo Boo Kitty’s jewelry until you get back.”

Andre opens his mouth to protest but Jamal lays a hand on his arm, says something Anika and Cookie can’t hear. They make out the barely imperceptible nod Andre gives before turning on his heel and disappearing down the hallway. Jamal gives them a nervous thumbs up before pulling Hakeem, to the other side of the hall, just out of view of the door but close enough to call for backup if the ladies start swinging again, and to make sure neither of them leaves.

Anika turns back to Cookie, crosses the last few steps between them. “I can’t tell if they’re trying to protect you or me,” she admits, and Cookie can’t help but laugh at the truth of it. All three are probably equally afraid of the physical damage Cookie would inflict on Anika given the chance as they are of the threat of Cookie returning to prison so soon. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so damn annoying.

Cookie can’t help but retort, “Or Luscious’s bitch ass,” and she regrets it immediately when Anika recoils, likely taking the mention of their shared lover as an impending challenge. But Cookie only points an aggressive finger at her own face. “Well? I know you ain’t come over here and get all up in my personal space just to talk about our feelings, Kitty.”

Anika relaxes, rolls her eyes again. “Watch out.” She slides into the space between where Cookie’s chair and the conference table, propping her butt on the edge of the table and leaning towards Cookie, hands outstretched. “I’m going to touch your face.”

“Well hurry up then, damn.” Cookie has her eyes closed, awaiting Anika’s touch.

“I wanted to make sure you don’t start screaming bloody murder first.”

Cookie’s eyes roll so hard Anika can see them moving through the closed lids. “Just hurry up before the boys come back and send us back to our time out corners.”

Anika cups Cookie’s chin with her left hand, raises her right to prod at the bridge of Cookie’s nose. The older woman flinches a few times, letting out a quiet hiss when Anika pokes at the most swollen part. Anika almost makes a biting remark about Cookie being a felon who can’t take a punch; almost. But she smart enough to know Cookie has time to at least bounce her head off any of the various hard surfaces in the room before the boys save her. And, to her own surprise, she finds herself not wanting to hurt Cookie’s feelings suddenly.

“Ouch. Careful.”

Anika pulls her right hand back. “Sorry. Here.” She reaches into Cookie’s lap, coaxes the bag of peas from clinging hands, and brings it to Cookie’s face, gently pressing it to one side of Cookie’s nose. “Like I said, it’s not broken,” she tells Cookie, “so you don’t have to worry about a crooked face. Just a few days of swelling and some bruising. Nothing some good concealer can’t fix. You got off easy. I’m the one with the busted lip. I look like I got janky injections.”

Cookie laughs again, then flinches. “You ain’t get nothing you didn’t deserve.”

Anika wants to argue but, really, she knows Cookie is right. From the moment she first met her fiancé’s ex-wife, she’s been waiting for the other fist to drop. She knows her swollen lip is her getting off easy. Still, they’re beyond apologies - not that Cookie would accept one if Anika bothered trying. Anika decides that sitting there, nursing a pouting Cookie’s wounds without minimal jabs is as good a gesture as any. And she knows Cookie understands when she opens her eyes and Anika sees, for the first time since they’ve met, an emotion besides pure hatred. It takes her a moment to place it; not friendliness, they may never get that far, but respect. They’ve traded blows now and to Cookie, that’s as close to a heartfelt conversation as they’re going to get.

There’s another knock on the glass, this one lighter, more hesitant, but it makes both women jump even higher than the first time. Andre, Jamal and Hakeem stand just outside the door, sporting matching bewildered looks. Jamal lamely holds up a bag of ice poorly wrapped in a dish rag. Hakeem’s eyes dart between his mother and the door handle, debating whether or not to run inside.

It dawns on Cookie and Anika at the same time that minutes ago they were trying to simultaneously pull each other’s hair out, and now Anika is cupping Cookie’s face, her thumb resting dangerously close to Cookie’s lower lip. Anika snatches her hands away from Cookie’s face, practically tossing the quickly warming peas into Cookie’s lap. She tries to school her face into a neutral expression as she slides off the large table and smooths her skirt, but she still notices Cookie curling her lip, trying to remind herself she’s supposed to be angry.

Jamal has the door open for Anika before she’s even all the way across the room and even Andre doesn’t try to stop her as she breezes past them. “Her nose isn’t broken but she’s going to need some Ibuprofen if you don’t want her to complain about the pain all night. Keep icing it, too.”

Hakeem is the only one dumb enough to say something about it when the three brothers finally work up the courage to step into the room. “Damn, Ma, what happened while we were gone? Looked like y’all really kissed and made up.”

Andre smacks him on the back of the head at the same time Cookie jabs a finger in his chest.

“Shut up, boy, and call me a Uber. I’m going home. Not about to have me in here looking like Anna Mae.”

Cookie sweeps past her sons, muttering mostly to herself until she reaches the door and stomps her way out of the building. They don’t even bother to follow her, a blessing for which Cookie is eternally grateful because she’s not sure how she could explain away the wistful way she unwittingly brings a hand to her face and touches the tingling spot on her lip where Anika’s thumb had been.


End file.
